


Invisible

by tromana



Category: The Mentalist
Genre: Alternate Canon, Alternate Universe, Crime Fighting, Drama, Gen, Mistaken Identity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-21
Updated: 2013-01-30
Packaged: 2017-11-26 08:15:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/648469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tromana/pseuds/tromana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jane had spent his whole life becoming invisible. Or, an alternative way for him to have become employed by the CBI. Jane/Lisbon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Chase

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Divinia Serit in the Paint It Red 2012 Gift Exchange

Teresa Lisbon peered out of her office and into the bullpen. She smiled briefly; everybody was working studiously, in just the way it should have been. Getting to where she was now had been an upward battle. It wasn't that people didn't think that women could be cops, and damn good ones at that, it was more of a case that they simply didn't think they could be as good as the men. Or better, for that matter. All too often, peers didn't take women seriously but Lisbon knew that was down to working in a masculine dominated career. She knew she had gotten lucky; had found a few people willing to take her seriously and that, along with her studious hard work, had gotten her to where she was today.

If it hadn't been for Sam Bosco and Virgil Minelli, then maybe she would have still been stuck in some small, out of town sheriff's job, where the worst she'd have had to deal with was burglaries, public drunkenness and other such petty crimes. However, not she had just had what she perceived to be her lucky break. Or at least, this was the biggest case she had been entrusted with to date.

She clutched the file tightly to her chest as she made her way towards her team. Rigsby and Cho were both the sturdy sort of men and they both trusted her implicitly. It was partially because they understood and knew her abilities, but also because she had saved their lives on a couple of occasions. Lisbon knew she had taken a risk with both of them when she had looked at their backgrounds, but had considered it worth it. They had gelled well together and produced results. For the CBI, that was the main thing.

Van Pelt – the newest member of the team – looked up at her and smiled. Lisbon liked Van Pelt; she had yet to buckle underneath the strain of the job. She still retained that youthful exuberance and naiveté, which protected her from the thinly veined cynicism of the rest of the team. It was probably only temporary; sooner or later, she would see too much death and violence. But she was a diligent hard worker and keen to prove she was capable. That was important if she wanted to go anywhere in this line of work.

Even with the presence of Van Pelt, sometimes Lisbon got the feeling she was working with the people that nobody else dared to take a chance on. A band of misfits and oddities, Minelli had once labeled them, affectionately, of course. Most of the time, Lisbon found, her faith was rewarded with fierce dedication. Along with her supervisor, she had spent a long while honing the team and her efforts had come to fruition.

The way they had developed so swiftly was pleasing. And as a consequence, Minelli was finally entrusting them with the more hard-hitting cases. They had taken down a few prominent murderers lately, proving that the relatively newly formed Serious Crimes Unit was a force to be reckoned with. And with the recent departure of the Major Crimes Unit's senior agent, he had given her something to really sink her teeth into.

"New case," she stated and immediately, all three of them were staring at her. She perched on the edge of Van Pelt's desk tentatively before continuing. "A serial killer…"

"Really?" Van Pelt interrupted, her eyes shining with excitement.

"The press has nicknamed him 'Red John'," Lisbon continued, blithely ignoring Van Pelt's interruption. "But we think we have an ID."

Swiftly, she handed out three sets of papers. Each featured the name, a general description and an old black and white photograph of the individual in question. Her team scoured the pages with interest and Lisbon cracked the slightest of smiles. Cho's brow, meanwhile, knitted as he absorbed the information. Eventually, he was the first to question it.

"Is this all we know about this Patrick Jane?"

"For now," she answered back quickly. "Van Pelt, I want you to follow the paper trails. See what you can dig up about this Patrick Jane. Rigsby, Cho, I need you to dig through the old cold cases, see what you can find out about his Red John persona. See what links him to each of the murders."

"Yes, Boss," Rigsby answered and Cho and Van Pelt nodded their assent.

A slight smile curled on Lisbon's face. This was the kind of feeling she liked to see in her team. A new task to focus on always brought a vibrant energy to the individuals who she led. And of course, they knew that this one would be a big deal. They had a lot to be going on; the team previously in charge of it had made some major inroads into it.

Theoretically, all they had to do was put the pieces together again.

However, Lisbon already knew that when it came to serial killers, it wasn't always quite as easy as that.

xxx

"Do you have anything for me, Cho?"

"Checked out his previous address," he stated quickly. "It's been abandoned."

Lisbon scowled. She wasn't surprised about that; before they had even started, she knew that Patrick Jane was a tricky man. If he was Red John, as they suspected, then he had evaded the authorities for such a long while already. Despite the previous team's progress, they had been brought on to give a fresh perspective on the case. Still, she knew she had to remain professional and carry everything out by the book if she wanted to make any headway into the case. That including putting the hard graft into mundane tasks such as following up on stale leads and the like. If she wanted to get the respect she deserved, then she had no choice.

Sometimes, that wasn't enough. It was a fact of life; men simply thought that women couldn't be as good cops as them. Certain chauvinistic men were always going to think that way; there was little point in her losing sleep over it.

Van Pelt sidled quickly over. For the duration of the case, she had been working closely with Cho. It was a better option than Rigsby; Lisbon knew the man held a candle for the new female agent and inter-team relationships were generally frowned upon. Lisbon knew better than most just how important it was to stay single-minded when on the job. A romance just provided an unnecessary distraction.

"Here's the thing. We canvassed the neighborhood and they were all acting… strange."

"Strange, how?" Lisbon asked, irritated at Van Pelt's lack of clarity.

"I don't have much experience of it, but my cousin, Yolanda, she's a practicing psychic and…"

"Grace thinks they've been hypnotized," Cho interrupted, aware that the younger woman was beginning to test Lisbon's patience.

"You think he hypnotized them into forgetting him?"

"Yes! Nobody could remember who he was, or where he lived, or anything. They didn't even remember his name or general description. Some said that his old house had been left vacant for years…"

"Interesting…"

Lisbon then handed them over a manila file with some scant information in it. Though Rigsby had been working on the paper trails alone, that didn't mean he had been wasting his time. There had been a witness, who had spotted a man fitting his description seen entering a local bar. It wasn't much to go on, but in the past they had gotten lucky going on much less. There was always the chance that this small, slight piece of information could provide them with that lucky break.

Besides, Jane was a dangerous man. If he could hypnotize people as Van Pelt had suspected, then he could cover up his tracks with an expert touch. Though they had some information to wrongdoings linked to him, just how much was he guilty of? Only the man himself probably realized the true extent of his crimes.

However, chasing up the lead wasn't what she had in store for Cho and Van Pelt. Instead, she had just handed them the information on Red John, the serial killer who left a smiley face on the wall. He was growing in notoriety, and it was their job to track him down. Lisbon wasn't entirely convinced by Minelli's conviction that Jane was Red John. It was their job to discover the connection.

And if he was Red John, the she wasn't going to put any of her time directly in the line of fire.

Instead, she was going to chase down this man herself.

xxx

Lisbon drummed her fingers irritably against the steering wheel of her SUV. While the bar owner had passed over the information she required, albeit reluctantly, he had been more than a little bit difficult with her. Occasionally, in the line of duty, she came across men who were still stuck in a different era entirely. It didn't matter that she had a badge and gun; she was only playing at being a cop, never mind being a lead agent for the CBI. They believed she should be at home with the kids, or at least, find a more gender appropriate job.

She knew it was all nonsense, of course, but that never stopped it from annoying her.

This man's attitude had soured the success of gaining a positive development. She had been right; a flimsy lead had quickly solidified. It turned out that Jane had been a regular at the bar. He had even performed there on occasion. A peeling poster on the wall, emblazoned with Jane's name, had been the reason the man had been unable to deny the connection. It had also explained the man's reluctance. He had counted Jane amongst his friends, or at least, allies and hadn't wanted to betray him. If she hadn't noticed the poster, it could all have been so different.

But now, she was on the way to the family home of a woman who was supposedly a regular customer of Jane's. Apparently, she doted upon him and saw him almost every other day. That kind of thing infuriated her; he was using this woman's naiveté to make a quick buck. Eventually, she would be penniless.

Or dead.

It was entirely possible that this was the link between Red John's victims. Gullible women who were looking for company, who believed in the unknown that little too deeply. He gained their trust and then carried out the ultimate betrayal. What could be worse than being killed by somebody you trusted so deeply? Lisbon shook her head. This wasn't the time to think about it. For now, she had to hurry up and reach this woman's home, to ensure that she had a chance to chase up the lead. Preferably, before Patrick Jane realized she was hot on his heels.

When she arrived, a blue Citroen was parked outside of the woman's house. It was a classic car, a model from the seventies. Her aunt had driven something not too dissimilar from it. There weren't many of them left these days. The thing didn't trigger too many alarm bells, however. Rigsby's research had indicated that Jane didn't own a vehicle. Or at least, if he did, it was underneath a different identity.

That was, apart from Red John, though she was fairly certain her team was yet to find any positive links between Jane and that specific pseudonym.

Still, it would have been foolish for a criminal to drive a car quite so distinctive as that one, she told herself firmly.

She paused briefly when she saw a blond man embrace the woman on the doorstep. When she surreptitiously handed over a wad of cash, Lisbon's frown deepened. In one swift motion, she slid out of her car and her hand flew to her holster. The description fit perfectly, like the final piece in a jigsaw puzzle. This wasn't just any old visitor.

This was Patrick Jane himself.

Her theorization seemed to be spot on. He chose the vulnerable, needy and desperate as his next victim. Twisting a story about being a psychic provided him with a mystique that money couldn't buy. Slowly but surely, he gained their trust. When he grew bored of them, he killed them and moved onto the next poor soul. It was as simple as that.

Briefly, she wondered just how long he had been manipulating this woman for.

How many days did she have left before he cut her open and watched her blood spill with glee?

That moment's indecision cost her valuable time. As she had considered her next move, he had spotted her, fled to his Citroen and started the engine. Before she had a chance to stop him, he had already backed out of the drive, almost clipped her arm as he did so and sped away up the street.

She attempted to make chase, but the distinctive car had already disappeared into the throng of traffic and Lisbon cursed herself for missing the opportunity.

It took her weeks to come to terms with the fact that it was probably for the best.

Approaching a man like Patrick Jane alone would have been foolish. She should have had the backup necessary to deal with such a situation.

And they still had a lead, if nothing else.

xxx

Two years slipped by in what felt like the blink of an eye. Other cases felt easy in comparison to Red John. She had lost count of just how many other criminals they had apprehended in the past twenty four months, how many other cases had been successfully closed. However, it was Red John that perpetually bothered Lisbon. Despite the fact they had a suspected I.D., the pseudonym had stuck. That was mostly because Patrick Jane, rather irritatingly, remained at large. Sometimes, it felt like they were closing in on him and once again, he disappeared without a trace, as if by magic.

To call the situation infuriating was something of an understatement.

Minelli remained steadfast in his faith in her, which was more than Lisbon could have said for herself. She believed that she had little excuse; a positive I.D. meant it should have been easier to find the man in question, instead of having these constant setbacks. However, her boss constantly reassured her that she was doing a good job, that they were making steps in the right direction. He was convinced that it was only a matter of time and with each death, they took a step closer to apprehending the man.

That was true, at least. Each murder confirmed the theories that they had. It showed the pattern in which he took with his victims. Though Lisbon had had the opportunity to interview the woman he'd been associated with a while ago, they hadn't got any further than that. Despite their greatest efforts to protect her, she too, had been killed by Red John. It hadn't helped that the poor soul had pushed Lisbon and her team away, but Lisbon still felt like she hadn't done enough. Still, it was in the past now and she had to look to the future. Even so, it still felt impossible to put their theories into practice. They never seemed to get close enough to the man to do so.

And besides, there was such a thing as 'innocent until proven guilty'. Until she had solid proof that Patrick Jane was Red John, then she was willing to hold her breath. After all, he hadn't confessed, they had evidence, but the case wasn't rock solid. Even now, their evidence could have been circumstantial and she knew it. So until she had him in custody, Lisbon knew that nothing was guaranteed.

And even then…

She sighed as she reorganized the personal belongings on her desk for the fifth time. It was one of those days where she seemed capable of only focusing on the negatives instead of the positives.

Only when Cho leaned through the doorframe of her office with a slight frown on his face did she stop her incessant straightening.

"Boss? I've got something."

xxx

Lisbon had a distinctly uncomfortable feeling about this.

In reality, she knew it was a good thing. This was a break they had literally been waiting years for. If they got lucky, then they would finally be able to apprehend Patrick Jane, the serial killer more commonly known as Red John. However, undercover work had never been her forte. She had always preferred to take a behind-the-scenes role in this kind of thing. After all, people regularly commented on just how honest her eyes were, and that always led to fears of her letting her true colors shine through. In this kind of operation, she always felt like it was a matter of time before their target worked out she was a cop. And now, she was more used to being the one pulling the strings, giving out the orders. But this time? The shoe was well and truly on the other foot.

It needed to be done like this, there was no question about it. Out of her team, she was the one best suited to this specific role. Van Pelt had just been too young, according to their resources and besides, she was far too untested to carry out an undercover op. However, that didn't stop Lisbon from wishing she were the one calling the shots.

On top of all that, she could still distinctly remember the one brush she had had with Patrick Jane. And that was the source of many of her doubts and fears. What of he recalled her? What if he ran before she had the chance to make the bust? In fact, the more she thought about it, the more likely it felt that everything was about to go horribly wrong.

"How do I look?" she asked anxiously.

Lisbon smiled weakly as she spoke. At least Van Pelt had blossomed into a fine agent since she had started working for the CBI. That was probably her greatest achievement as lead agent of the Serious Crimes Unit to date. If and when she caught Red John, then maybe…

She shook her head.

If all went to plan, then tonight _was_ going to change that.

But that was the key problem. Lisbon hated putting all her faith in luck. In her experience, that always led to trouble.

xxx

While at the office, preparing for this undercover sting, Lisbon had felt uncomfortable about this situation. Now, she felt even more exposed as well. As she filtered through the smoky haze, past all the men with their eyes wide as orbs and tongues practically hanging out of their mouths, she longed for her comfortable work attire. The dress she had opted to wear barely covered anything. Lisbon's skin crawled, but instead of showing her discomfort, she attempted to mask it with a fixed smile.

Silently, she reminded herself that she had to be grateful for this chance. If Cho hadn't had a confidential informant amongst the 'staff' in this dive, then they wouldn't have had the opportunity to carry out this sting.

Cho was currently on the other end of the line, but he remained stubbornly silent. Lisbon had already lost count of the number of criminal offenses she had already seen but she shelved them for later consideration. As much as she wanted to deal with it here and now, she simply could not risk blowing her cover for relatively minor issues. Instead, she had to carry on playing the part of a pretty new 'waitress'. One who happened to flirt mercilessly with the patrons and offer other 'opportunities' on the side.

After half an hour of smiling sweetly and cringing at lascivious comments, Lisbon was beginning to grow increasingly frustrated. Not for the first time, doubts crept into her mind. What if they had been misinformed or worse, misled? What if she was being led into a trap? The fact that she had backup holed away in a room above this bar offered only a small comfort. She had heard the horror stories of officers reaction too slowly all too often. Lisbon trusted her team, of course she did. However, it took barely a second to shoot somebody down dead. Already, she knew that the vast majority of people in this place were (probably, illegally) armed.

Again, it felt like it was only a matter of time until her cover was blown.

When Cho finally broke the silence, his words felt like heaven to her.

"He's here," he whispered and she nodded ever so slightly. "Your five o'clock."

She turned and smiled when she spotted Patrick Jane in the flesh.

It was time to end this.


	2. The Prey

"That's it, breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth. In and out, in and out, and you're under."

She was as well, and Patrick Jane breathed a sigh of relief. This woman was a regular customer of his; chronic insomnia, something which he understood all too well, had plagued her for much of her adult life. As a consequence, he had taken pity on her and offered his services two months back. Since then, she had been utterly delighted with the results and was now a frequent visitor. Often, she claimed, she could only sleep if he hypnotized her.

Once, she had even dared to propose to him. He'd laughed it off, tapped his wedding band slightly and reminded her that he was already married. (That was a lie, if you were talking semantics. Technically, he was a widower and there was a small, but pivotal difference with regards to his marriage status.) She'd pouted, sulked a little and then promptly got over it. That was probably the wisest decision she had made in her entire life; he really wasn't marriage material.

When she had fallen into a deep trance, Jane let go of the breath he had been holding. Closing his own eyes, he whispered the words she had needed to hear. There was no magic behind what he did, but his customers swore by it. Especially Carolynn; she often said she couldn't live without him. The words fell from his mouth easily; he knew them by rote. He said them often enough as it was.

This was one of the few times in a week when he got to distract himself from the demons that haunted him. That was half the reason why he was so fond of Carolynn. She provided him with a steady income and respite. And in return for a weekly payment, he was more than happy to stop by her house every other day. He helped her to sleep and relax and she helped him in return. It was a symbiotic relationship, mutually beneficial.

Eventually, he had to break her out of her trance and like usual, Carolynn looked relaxed and at peace. Jane, meanwhile, felt the anxiety return in full flow. This moment always signaled the end of the session and the return to his real world. The one where he was reminded of his devastating loss at each and every turn. It was also the one where the authorities believed he was a serial killer.

That couldn't have been much further from the truth. He had crossed a serial killer, yes. The man had killed his wife and child in retaliation. Jane, naturally, had refused to back down. Since then, Red John had proceeded to destroy each and every aspect of his life, right down to his very freedom. Ultimately, this was all because of a few misplaced comments which he regretted on a daily basis.

And it seemed like now only two people knew the truth: Jane and Red John himself.

Jane knew that most people who had found himself in his situation would have dedicated their time to proving their innocence, fighting tooth and nail to clear their name. He didn't care, however. All of his life he had toed the fine line between crime and the law. And Red John, by pulling him into this web of lies and deceit, had made an enemy out of him.

He was more than happy to fight fire with fire. Only problem was, discovering the identity of the _real_ Red John.

Carolynn accompanied him to the door, professing her thanks as she often did so. Jane smiled at her as she pressed his weekly payment into the palm of his hands – and a substantial tip on top of it. He was about to protest her generosity when he realized a vehicle – a SUV to be precise – had pulled up outside.

A petite brunette slid out of the driver's seat and it took Jane a second to notice the badge attached to her hip. She was a cop, possibly CBI, and immediately, he panicked.

Without giving Carolynn a second glance, he rushed to his car, started the engine and sped off. His classic Citroen had never let him down in times of trouble. The further he got away from the house, the more relieved he felt. However, he also knew that he had to get rid of the car, as much as it disappointed him. There was no doubting that she had gotten a clear sighting of his plates, even though she hadn't been able to react quickly enough to make chase. Therefore, she was able to connect the vehicle to one of his false identities and ergo, him.

It meant that all eyes would now be out for him and that would never do.

Briefly, he toyed with the idea of giving himself up and proving his innocence in the courts. It had been a close call and surprisingly, it had really shaken him.

However, the fact that he had continually kept running instead of doing just that in the first place counted against him. In fact, in the eyes of the cop he had just seen visiting Carolynn it was probably damning evidence and tantamount to guilt.

xxx

For six months, he laid down low. The car had been sold to an enthusiastic collector of classics who promised to look after it. Replacing it with a nondescript modern version had been even worse. The principle reason for the ownership of his old Citroen had been his wife. He'd always been fond of the model and she had picked it up for him as an engagement present. Now, it was another piece of his old life that he'd had to give up thanks to Red John.

Still, he felt apprehensive about approaching Carolynn's home. He didn't doubt the fact she had probably been interrogated on multiple occasions about her connection to him. But she didn't know the real him, or at least not enough about him for it to be dangerous. He had always been careful to use one of his many pseudonyms around her, one that he had since stopped using as a precautionary measure. The information he had told her about himself had mostly been inconsequential facts, his favorite color, vacations he wanted to take his daughter on, his opinions on current affairs. However, even the most careful of people made mistakes. That was why he still lived in hope of discovering Red John's true identity.

Red John.

That was the other potential fate of his client and Jane knew that it would be foolish to pretend otherwise. He knew that Red John now exclusively killed people who had remained close to him one way or another. In a way, it was only a matter of time until the serial killer found out about her, then chose her as his victim.

His selfishness had meant that he simply hadn't been able to stay away.

He walked up the driveway at a fast clip and smiled when he saw Carolynn's car neatly parked on the drive. Then, he proceeded to knock on her door and wait. When she had stubbornly refused to answer after five minutes, he turned up the terracotta cat that was positioned next to her door and found the spare key. Despite his many protestations about security, she had always insisted upon leaving it there. _'I have a brain like a sieve,'_ he could practically hear her saying. _'I always forget my house key when I go and visit the neighbors.'_

There was no answer when he apprehensively called out her name. Instead a long-haired cat – her Ragdoll cat, Misty, - answered the call, yowling pitifully, desperate for attention. After giving Misty a quick, affectionate scratch behind the ear, he proceeded to make his way through Carolynn's home. Nothing had changed since his last visit; there was still the familiar layer of cream of fur covering the majority of surfaces and cat toys littered across the floor. However, excepting Misty's intense chatter, the place was deathly silent.

Instinctively, he headed straight upstairs and to her bedroom. Something felt decidedly wrong about this situation; she never went anywhere on a Thursday afternoon, she should have been here. The stairs creaked as he ascended, with the cat in tow. He frowned when he noticed her bedroom door was slightly ajar and with his heart beating wildly in his chest, he nudged it open.

When he spotted an all too familiar smiley face painting in blood facing him, he felt as though the world had suddenly stopped turning.

xxx

Jane had gotten good at his disappearing act.

It was something he'd had to master from a young age. With the carnival circuit, there were only two standings. You were either in or out. With the carnival, or a mark. Leaving had been one of the most difficult things he'd had to do. Thankfully, having Angela by his side had made it that little bit easier. Because of that, it was them against the world. If all else failed, they had each other to fall back on.

Still, there were some people furious with him for absconding. They were scared that he would start leaking their secrets and tarnishing their name. Unsurprising, given the fact he knew from first-hand experience that the carnival circuit was unethical and immoral, if not illegal. Some violent people harbored deep loathing for him as a consequence. Since then, Jane had always had to be careful not to cross paths with the old carnival folk. It was half the reason that he and Angela had chosen to move to California; it was rare they came this far west. And then, they had had the opportunity to truly settle and have a family, even if he hadn't been entirely capable of throwing away his old ways.

Then, there was his current predicament. While he was trying to find Red John, he was equally trying to avoid being killed by him at the same time. Sometimes, that felt like something easier said than done. There were times when he was desperate for more information, desperate to get moving with things. Sometimes, it felt like he was a little too close to the flames. He'd nearly been hospitalized on occasion, thanks to rogue Red John acolytes trying to shoot him down. On top of all that, there were the cops who wanted to pin him down for crimes he hadn't committed. If it hadn't been for his uncanny ability to disappear into the shadows, to take what he needed and then get out of there, he wouldn't have had a chance.

But that didn't mean his lifestyle wasn't wearing him thin. It was draining, being on the go all the while. He hated not being able to stop in any one place for a substantial period of time. Then, there was the concept of trust – he couldn't trust anybody, not any more. In a way, Jane missed having people he could rely upon. His wife and daughter being at the top of that list, naturally. He hated not having space to breathe.

This quest for vengeance was eating him up from the inside as well. Jane was more than aware of just how much it was taking over his life. No, it had become his life, his very essence of being. He could feel the innate wrongness in such a situation right down to his core. And worse, he knew just how much his sweet, ethical wife would have loathed it. But he couldn't stop, not now. He was in far too deep to dare try doing something like that.

So, disappearing had become a necessary evil.

One day, he just hoped that it would come to fruition.

xxx

Three months after Carolynn's murder, he knew he had to get out of it.

Reassess his life.

Work out whether or not he could truly do this.

He'd been fixated on revenge from the moment he had seen his beautiful daughter's bloody body. Nothing else had come to his mind except for the idea of taking the life of the man response. An eye for an eye; it may have been petty, but it felt necessary. After all, just how human could somebody truly be if they were willing to slaughter an innocent girl?

But it was beginning to absorb every aspect of his life. Long hours of isolation were driving him insane. He tossed and turned during the night thinking of death, of blood, of murder. It was driving him to the point of no return and he was just desperate to get out of it, if only for a brief while.

So, he left California, left it all behind and promised himself he'd return in due course.

Because even though he doubted himself, he couldn't let the killer of his wife and daughter go unpunished.

xxx

Information about Red John eventually trickled in his direction.

Since his return to California, it had taken him eighteen months to secure the right contacts and slowly gain the trust of certain individuals. Naturally, that had meant he had also had to stop his constant running and settle down more. That didn't mean he stayed still, necessarily, more that he had to remain in Sacramento for longer periods of time. Never in the same part of the city for too long, of course; there was too much risk involved in that.

However, it was becoming increasingly more apparent that this was the place that Red John was located. Of course he'd want to set himself up in the capitol of the state. How else would he be able to keep a close eye on all of the organizations – police or otherwise – trying to keep track of him? And if Jane wanted to get nearer to him, then he had to go to Red John.

He'd spent too many months trying to lure him out of the city, to no avail. Red John had remained underground, only killing every few months or so to remind people he still existed. He wanted to taunt Jane into exposing himself to the authorities, and thus, get himself arrested. As a consequence, Jane knew that if he remained defensive in his actions, then he wasn't going to get anywhere.

After all, he'd always said he'd fight fire with fire.

And now, he felt like he had gained some of his own character back. While he remained steadfast in his belief that Red John should die at his own hands, Jane had now also had a chance to relax. Practice some of his old skills. Live a little beyond the desperate urge for revenge.

But still, people were dying because of Red John. And still, Jane hadn't been able to stop him. He blamed himself for each and every death as a consequence. They were still people he had once known, ghosts from his past. More people seemed to be suffering because he hadn't put a stop to it. Slowly but surely, it was growing past a need for vengeance for his wife and child, but a need to prevent the suffering of people in the state as a whole. His actions and behavior were becoming that of a vigilante. It didn't seem like the cops were doing their job, anyway. Besides, they were too busy trying to hunt down him instead of the _real_ killer.

He sat on the park bench and stared out into space. This was where he had been told to meet the contact and he was a little early. A small blonde girl played happily in the sandbox as her mother watched on. Jane estimated that she was the same age as his daughter had been when she died and felt that familiar pang of regret.

Soon, he promised himself. Soon, he'd have answers about who was responsible for killing her.

It was another five minutes before he had company on the park bench. The mother of the child he had been observing, to be precise. Wordlessly, she pressed a scrap of paper into his hands and then stood. Quickly, she called for her daughter and Jane watched as the two disappeared hand in hand into the distance. It was only then that he dared to look at what she had handed over to him.

A wry smile quickly traced itself onto his features.

Jane had already known that Red John's followers came in many shapes and sizes, but he hadn't expected a loving mother to be amongst them. It was generally hard to take him off guard, but that situation had surprised him nevertheless. He had to wonder why somebody who clearly had a settled lifestyle would need something from somebody like Red John.

Regardless, it was no matter. He had what he'd come for and now, it was time to put his plans into motion.

xxx

He knocked three times on the black door and waited for an answer. Thirty seconds later, the small panel three quarters of the way up slid open and a pair of brown eyes stared back at him. The man didn't say a word; instead he waited for Jane to speak. Quietly, Jane whispered the keywords to him and the panel slammed shut once more.

Approximately one minute passed until he heard the sound of a key turning in the lock and then, the door swung open. The man stood to one side and beckoned Jane quickly in. Once he was safely in the confines of the dark corridor, the door was promptly shut behind him. Warily, Jane eyed the man who merely gave him further instructions. Down the corridor, turn left, second door on the right. That was where he was to head.

It didn't take him long to find it. Once inside, Jane surveyed the room carefully. Despite the fact it was exclusively by invitation only, it hadn't stopped it from being a dive. Then again, all the money went towards the alcohol, the drugs and the poker tables. What was the point in wasting money on the décor when it could be spent on more interesting things?

In part, that was why he was here. Money was burning a hole in his pocket; you had to speculate to accumulate, after all. This was all untraceable cash; the way he managed to make a living these days. Bank accounts were too dangerous for a man in his position. However, although money was part of the appeal, or at least, a reason to endure all of this, it wasn't the main reason he was here.

He was looking for information about Red John.

His contacts were very willing to share information with him, almost suspiciously so. Still, Jane had been willing to take that leap of faith if it meant getting closer to the killer who had blighted his life. The thought of revenge ran through him, like it was as cold as ice. It was the only thing that had stopped him from going insane and from being thrown onto death row for crimes he didn't commit. The time out from the case in question had rejuvenated his spirit and refocused him on the task in hand. But he'd also grown bored with waiting.

Now was the time for action.

Nobody seemed willing to approach him. Instead, he patted his pocket and smiled at the sound of coins jangling in his pocket. One man was staring at him, but when Jane reciprocated his look, he glanced away, clearly unsure. Jane grinned. If anyone was going to be the likely contact, than this was the man he was probably looking for. Quickly, he weaved his way through the hordes of people. It was surprising just how many men had crammed themselves into such a small place in order to carry out their illicit deals.

But Jane wasn't complaining. In a way, it just made it all the easier on him.

Just as he nearly reached the table, he was cut off by a petite brunette woman with sharp green eyes and forced smile. Briefly, Jane thought he recognized her, or at least, that he had seen her someplace before. She looked considerably uncomfortable, which was unusual for the staff in this place. The rest of them seemed relaxed, at ease and were used to the attention that was being lavished upon them.

This one, however, was either new, or…

"Can I get you a drink, Mr. Jane?" she asked and fluttered her eyelashes at him.

Then, he remembered and scrambled for the door.


	3. The Interrogation

A trap.

That was what it had been.

Instead of having good luck with his leap of faith, he had jumped out of the frying pan and right into the fire. Handcuffs dug into his wrists a little and the pin he would have used to pick the lock on them had already been confiscated. There were other methods he could have used, of course, but they took time and that wasn't something he had. Instead, the time to escape had slipped through his fingers and he had well and truly been caught in the CBI's net. Silently, he cursed at himself as a sturdy sort of man led him towards a black SUV. With some assistance, he ducked his head and settled into the back seat.

It wasn't as if he had much of a choice, anyway.

Jane would never forget the triumphant expression on Agent Lisbon's face as she had successfully tackled him to the floor. Considering her petite stature and the fact she had been bare foot – having kicked off her stilettoes – she had been very fast on her feet. Too fast for him to outrun, anyway. Then again, he hadn't been in the best of shape for a while. Though his lifestyle choices had kept him on the run, it was only a figure of speech. There hadn't exactly been time to dedicate to physical fitness.

Even if he had been able to outrun her, she'd had three fellow agents and some local law enforcement officers surrounding the perimeter of the building.

In reality, he hadn't had a chance.

He'd been so convinced that a lead to Red John had been positioned in the bar, however. Usually, Jane found that he had good fortune with his hunches. Then again, when he was wrong, he was spectacularly wrong. This was one of those occasions. In retrospect, his blind faith had probably blinded his senses to the bigger picture and that in itself was all the more galling. Jane couldn't help but think that he should have realized what was going on before it was too late.

Silently, he sat and waited while the CBI agents sorted themselves out. Now, it seemed all the more possible that his connection had been a double agent – working for both Red John and the CBI. That was probably why his leads had seemed so convincing and why the CBI had been buzzing around the bar like flies. It gave them both what they wanted, after all. For the CBI, it meant the arrest of a supposedly dangerous criminal. As for Red John? It neatly disposed of an enemy and allowed him to literally get away with murder.

"I told you she'd catch him," the shorter of the two agents stated to the other. "You owe me."

"Ten bucks, I know," the taller man groaned as he placed the key in the ignition. "I just didn't think she'd be that fast."

Jane sank back miserably into his seat, as if he were trying to disappear into it. Remaining stubbornly silent, he listened to the pair of them bicker like young brothers. As far as he was concerned, it wasn't going to make a shred of difference to how the night had already turned out.

xxx

It felt like a relief to finally get home. Lisbon, however, was in no mood to sleep. The adrenalin rush was still pumping through her system. Whenever she made an arrest, especially one where there was a bit of action going on, this was how she felt. Even though she had become a cop to fight injustice, she couldn't deny the buzz that it gave her during moments like this.

In spite of that, she knew she had no choice but to relax. And besides, even her euphoria at making what could possibly prove to be the biggest arrest of her life hadn't quelled the desire to change out of her ridiculous clothing. Even though she was the boss, and Rigsby and Cho did treat her with the utmost respect, she felt like even they had treated her different during this bust. After all, she had practically been dressed like a hooker in order to blend in with the other 'waitresses'.

Her need for comfort wasn't the only reason for this brief break in the case though. Lisbon already knew that Jane was going to be a difficult character to break. Leaving him to stew in the holding cells overnight could only play in their favor. She had given Rigsby and Cho strict instructions before leaving Patrick Jane in their care. Check him over for hidden objects thoroughly, leave him in the holding cell and make sure that nobody interacted with him any more than absolutely necessary. There was a distinct possibility that he would try to use or otherwise hoodwink somebody to escape otherwise. The security staff were to make sure he was supplied with enough refreshments and refuse access to Jane to anyone without clearance.

When she finally had the opportunity to step underneath the hot spray of her shower, Lisbon felt the day's aches and pains wash away in an instant. As she relaxed, her exhaustion finally caught up with her. It confirmed her suspicions that it was best to refocus on the case and the interrogation in the morning. Her whole team had worked supremely hard all day; she had already instructed them to come in a little later than usual in order to catch up with some much needed sleep. With somebody like Jane, they just couldn't afford to be running on empty. Otherwise, he would run rings around them and she'd never be able to close this case the way that they wanted to.

In the morning, within two hours of arriving at the office, then she would finally have a chance to interview the man suspected as being Red John.

xxx

The cot in the holding cells was threadbare and uncomfortable. Jane never expected luxury; why would the CBI have spent unnecessary money on the comfort of suspected criminals? Even so, he did have some standards and refused to use it.

Even if he hadn't been under arrest, he wouldn't have been able to sleep anyway. Insomnia was an old demon that had plagued him for years. It stemmed back from his days with the carnival circuit, living under fear of the wrath of his father. As a child he'd quickly learned that it was better to remain awake around his old dad than risk being caught unawares. Jane carried many battle scars from learning the hard way. However, even once he had escaped Alex Jane's clutches, it had been a difficult habit to try and break. Eventually, he just gave up.

Besides, he didn't want to submit to their games and make them feel like they were winning in this power play. The fact that they were essentially ignoring him and leaving him with just his own thoughts for company was a pretty standard game to play. After all, they were in completely in control of when he was questioned, or at least, to a certain extent. There were time limitations on that kind of thing, but it didn't stop some flexibility. Naturally, it irked him, but not too much. This was something that was to be expected.

Even so, he shot down any offer of refreshment, except for the occasional cup of tea. He didn't think he could stomach food any more than he could sleep. Jane was too busy trying to think his way out of his current dilemma. Agent Lisbon, the one who had arrested him, seemed to be especially suspicious of him and he couldn't blame her in the slightest. He knew it was going to take some doing to convince her of his innocence. Especially so given his previous incursion with her.

After all, he'd nearly ran her down once, at Carolynn's house. He'd also constantly evaded capture and he suspected that she at least knew some of his mind tricks. Why else would she have instructed anybody who came into contact with him to be on their guard?

Vaguely, he'd considered the concept of hypnotizing the man guarding his cell. However, the man seemed to have got the message to be wary of making eye contact and to not bother saying any more than was entirely necessary. Considering how long it had taken them to catch him, Jane was almost surprised at just how professional they seemed to be. For somebody in his position, it was disappointing; however it was good for the state of California's law enforcement.

Slowly, he took a sip of his tea and grimaced. He'd left it too long and allowed it to get cold. Regardless, he drank it quickly in the hope of being offered another one. Then, he settled down to watch the small clock that was counting down the hours until he would next be released from the holding cell. If only he knew what precise time that would be. Instead, all he could do was make a note of just how long he'd been in here and how much time they had left before they'd be forced to take action.

xxx

Lisbon drummed her fingers agitatedly against her thigh as she waited for Virgil Minelli to finish up on his phone call. She didn't envy his job in the slightest; it seemed like too much paperwork for not enough reward. Then again, considering his job description was mostly to keep rich and powerful people happy while keeping some semblance of control of those he was in charge of, it was hardly surprising.

From what she could gather, somehow, there had been a leak to the media that they had taken somebody into custody with regards to the Red John case. Lisbon sighed; it was always the way. Though the information had, naturally, been accurate, she had wished she'd gotten a little more time before people heard of the developments. Now, she had to press on with getting the conviction, because otherwise people would unjustifiably doubt her abilities as a cop.

"So," Minelli eventually said, as he placed down the receiver. "You've apprehended Red John."

"Patrick Jane," Lisbon corrected immediately. "We haven't had a confession yet."

"True, but I believed that we were working under the assumption that they were one and the same?"

She inclined her head in slight agreement before speaking. "He is a person of interest to the case, at the very least."

Minelli nodded, stood up and accompanied Lisbon to the door of his office. She was more than happy to keep toe to toe with her boss; they'd always shared a mutual respect for one another. After all, he had been the one who'd head-hunted her. He'd nurtured her career for several years now. Lisbon was convinced she wouldn't have been half the cop that she was without his assistance. Minelli had always been happy to offer her his assistance in cases without judgment. Therefore, it was only natural that he had requested an audience in her interrogation of Patrick Jane.

This was something that she wanted to do on her own. She didn't trust Patrick Jane enough to give him more people to toy around with.

Silently, they headed towards the interrogation room in which she had had Jane installed. He was under the supervision of Cho and she trusted the agent to keep his wits about him. Lisbon had worked with Cho for a long while and if she hadn't been desperate to interrogate Jane herself, she would have passed the reins over to him. Instead, he was due to be taking a behind the scenes approach. Rigsby and Van Pelt were busy trying to piece together Jane's sketchy background, something which she hoped her interview would assist them with.

"Teresa, good luck," Minelli said briefly before disappearing into the room.

Lisbon merely nodded in response.

xxx

When the door swung open, Jane wasn't really surprised to see Agent Lisbon enter. She didn't seem like the type of person who found it easy to delegate duties. Besides, he knew she was still pretty much convinced he was Red John, much like everybody else in the building. He couldn't blame them; had he been fed the same kind of misinformation as them, he would probably have believed the same. Instead, he had to convince her that he had good reason for running.

And that he would never have touched a hair on the heads of his wife and daughter. He wasn't a monster; he'd loved them both dearly. They had become his everything until they had been cruelly snatched away from him. Just because his actions had been less than honorable in the eyes of the law, it didn't make him a serial killer.

"You're a very hard man to track down, Mr. Jane," Agent Lisbon spoke as she sat down opposite him.

"I try," he answered with a wan smile. "I do have a reputation to uphold, after all."

"And it certainly precedes you," Lisbon countered, unwilling to let this one slip through her fingers. "Fraud, assault of a police officer, evasion, murder…"

She spread the files of information out in front of her as she spoke to him. Jane watched warily as she highlighted various articles. A lot of the information was misplaced, of course. He didn't know the identities of any of the earlier Red John murder victims. However, from what he could tell, some of it was accurate. He'd spotted some information on at least one of his false identities – the one that Carolynn had known, at least.

"Not murder. I _do_ have a conscience."

"Do you? You've been a bad man, Mr. Jane."

"Call me Patrick."

"I'd rather not, if it's all the same to you."

"According to our records, you have brutally murdered twelve people, including your own wife and child. What do you have to say about that?"

"I didn't kill them," he stated.

"Oh really?" she questioned, almost sarcastic in her tone.

"Yes, really."

"Then who did?"

"That's what I'm trying to find out."

"And why did you evade capture for so long, if you're supposedly innocent?"

"I was framed. I'm looking for the man responsible for killing them. Red John, as you previously called him."

"What do you intend to do to him if you find him?"

"Exactly what he did to my wife and child."

Jane blinked as their images sprang to the forefront of his mind. Not healthy, full of life and energy as he attempted to remember them, but their butchered bloody bodies. He could remember the sound of silence as he'd walked through the family home and upstairs. The way that the door creaked open as he nudged it to reveal Red John's calling card leering back at him from the opposite walls. There had been a distinct tang of iron in the air, thanks to the sheer blood loss.

And worse, both their eyes were open. Shiny, glassy, lifeless. They had known exactly what had happened to them as their lives disappeared.

Of course he couldn't have done that to them. However, he knew it was partially his fault. If he hadn't volunteered to help with a local police department in the early days of the Red John case, then he'd never have gone on television. And if he'd never done that talk show, he'd never have angered the serial killer and had his life turn for the worse.

Everything would have been different had it not been for that fateful error of judgment.

"So, you're willingly admitting to intent right here and now?"

"Yes, I am."

A frown quickly knitted its way across her features and Jane smirked a little. So far, he thought she had gone fairly easy on him. Her questions and answers had been pretty simple and she wasn't pushing him too hard. In a way, he was beginning to suspect that she didn't actually have any hard evidence on him whatsoever and was waiting for him to trip up and admit to something that incriminated him. So, when she changed tactics and started asking him about his past, his relationships with his family and moved onto why he had evaded capture for so long in spite of his innocence, he wasn't surprised in the slightest.

Jane found that he didn't have to try too hard to find an appropriate answer to her questions. The truth mostly sufficed in most cases. Lisbon's frown deepened as he drew out his life's history for her; he could tell that she wasn't pleased with the way the interrogation was going.

When there was a knock at the one-way mirror, indicating that somebody behind it wanted to speak to her, she looked positively relieved to get out of there.

xxx

"I want to question him," Minelli said bluntly as Lisbon entered the small room. "I think I can get something interesting out of him."

"Boss…"

"Teresa," he countered quickly and she balked. "I may be an old dog, but I do know some new tricks."

"I never said that."

"I know you didn't."

He patted her consolingly on the shoulder as he did so. Afterwards, he suggested that he left them in peace – the interview would be recorded anyway. Lisbon's resources were being stretched thin and he knew she already had some useful information to hand over to Rigsby and Van Pelt. Patrick Jane had been quick to answer any and every question about his past. Now, she needed to know whether or not it matched up with everything she knew.

Eventually, she saw the logic in his argument and accepted his help. It was what Minelli was there for, after all. However, she only agreed to do so if Cho accompanied him during the interrogation. Lisbon felt compelled to have at least one member of her team present, even if she was otherwise engaged.

Even so, she couldn't help but wonder why Minelli had wanted to get so actively involved in the case. It was very unlike him, these days.

Then again, this was a Red John case. That, by default, made it different.

xxx

Agent Lisbon stormed into the interrogation room with a face like thunder. In silence, she motioned for his hands, which he happily handed over. Jane watched as she unlocked the handcuffs and chains that had been present pretty much since he had arrived at the headquarters. They hadn't taken a chance for him to escape. He twisted his hands tentatively, relieved to finally have them fully underneath his control.

Jane had spent the last three hours watching the clock ticking onwards and grown more hopeful by the second. Time was running out – they'd had to either charge him or release him – there were no other options for them. He knew enough about law to know that; with his past, it had been an occupational necessity.

"You're free to go," Lisbon said through gritted teeth.

"What did you just say?"

"Just… go," she snapped back, her anger getting the better of her. "There's nothing we can hold you on."

"I wish I could say 'it's been a pleasure'," Jane answered with a grin. "But it has been interesting getting to know you."

"Please. You don't know me."

"You read like an open book. Honest eyes."

As he walked away from her, towards the ornate elevator, Jane risked taking a glance back at the senior agent. A mixture of emotions seemed to cluster on her face – frustration, anger, confusion, disappointment – and she glared back at him.

It was good to be free, but Jane already knew it wouldn't be long until he was back. He had plans he wanted to put into motion.

After all, Agent Lisbon seemed like a very interesting person to be around. Virgil Minelli, too, was pliable to say the least.

And if he couldn't get Red John on his own, he might as offer his services to law enforcement. It would mean that he could just stop running. If he could get close to these cops, it might also lead to being in a beneficial position in the future. When he'd caught Red John, just as he'd always promised to do so, having them fighting in his corner would have been useful.

He'd have been a fool to think otherwise.

xxx

One month later and Lisbon walked into the bullpen with a new case in hand.

She was still angry about the Red John case, something which was only natural. They had gotten so close to a conviction and then, it had all unraveled in the blink of an eye. Minelli's interview with Jane had been next to useless. Somehow, Jane had also managed to expertly unravel all the evidence they'd ever gathered on him. It was circumstantial, nothing more, nothing less.

They couldn't even seem to pin any technicalities down on him.

In a way, she was glad that she'd never have to see sight of him again. The arrogance of the man had astounded her – and worse, he had made them out to look like idiots.

However, her relief was very short lived. For along with the rest of her team, Patrick Jane was lounging on the old battered leather couch that had always been in the corner of the bullpen.

"What the hell is he doing here?" she seethed.

"Good morning, Teresa," Jane answered with a smile. "Didn't you get Minelli's message? I'm your new consultant."


End file.
